


Witch Shop

by Vailee



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-24 01:31:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17091563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vailee/pseuds/Vailee
Summary: Dirk sells ingredients when he's not distracted by hot customers





	Witch Shop

When the bell over the door chimes you ignore it.

The best word you would use to describe your family store was niche. Your customers were all regulars who knew this store better than you, seeing as they actually used the ingredients here while you did not. All they ever needed you for was to ring up their purchases. It’s why your family ‘let’ you man the till. As if you had nothing better to do.

It’s also why you get a hell of a fright when instead of the sounds of someone gathering ingredients a cheerful voice interrupts your browsing.

“Hello, chum! Don’t suppose you could help a fellow out?” You don’t let on that you’re startled of course. Calmly pulling your feet off the counter you stand up, grabbing your laptop as it starts to slide out of lap while doing so. “Oh! I didn’t mean to startle you. I thought the noise when I opened the door would alert you to my presence.”

“You didn’t startle me.” You deny, gently placing your laptop on the counter. You’ve spent a lot of money and effort on the thing and if something happened to it you think you might cry.

“If you say so.” You can practically  _ taste _ the disbelief in their voice. “I need some ingredients for a spell, do you mind terribly help me find them?” You glance up sourly, ready to tell them you know about as much as they do about where to find things in the shop, maybe they should come back later when someone who does know is here?

You have never been so glad for your poker face.

You almost choke as you swallow the words on your tongue and they get stuck in your throat. You don’t of course, because you are a Strider, and Striders don’t get stunned stupid by a pretty face.

“Sure.” You say instead, kind of grossing yourself out with all the excess saliva in your mouth. There’s a pause where the two of you just stare at each other. You are thinking about how attractive you find his hair, how he makes buck teeth look good, how you could get lost in his green eyes. You can only hope he’s thinking similar things as you.

“So! Uh…” He starts, fiddling with the buttons on his coat. “Should we get started?”

“Right.” You look down at your laptop thankful that your dark skin hides your blush. “What do you need?” Then your head jerks up when he starts listing off ingredients and you hold up a hand to stop him because holy shit, that is a  _ lot  _ of ingredients. And he’s  _ memorized  _ all that? Must be useful for casting.

“Wow, slow down there dude. Maybe we should go through these one at a time yeah?”

“Ah, yes of course.” He says flustered, his cheeks flush and he avoids meeting your eyes. You don’t know if that’s just kind of how he is or if you have the same effect on him that he has on you. But you can always dream, right?

“So, from the top, what was that first ingredient?” You ask, looking back at your laptop and running the store’s software program. You and your cousin Roxy programmed it to keep track of the location and quantity of stock. Or it’s supposed to, some members of the family had no trouble updating it when they sold or moved something, others seemed to be physically pained by the very idea.

His first ingredient is a common one, even you’ve heard of it before and it’s right where it’s supposed to be. This happens with most of the common ingredients he needs. It’s when you start on the more rare ingredients that you start running into trouble. You get lucky a few times, with the system saying you’re out of stock but finding the ingredient on the shelves anyway. Slightly less lucky are the times the system says it’s supposed to be on  _ this  _ shelf, in  _ this _ section and it’s not. The worst times are when the system says you have something in stock but you don’t. Especially when you check the place it’s supposed to be, check the other shelves in the section in case it got moved and check in storage to see if you have any that hasn’t been put out yet. You find yourself mindlessly complaining to your customer.

“...we’ve made it as easy as possible. Just search up the item, and change the boxes as needed. Really all you need to do is be able to read and yet still  _ some people _ seem to be horribly allergic to the very concept! It just seems to be that generation gap, you know?”

“Err… not really.” Which in itself is embarrassing, complaining to this attractive guy about something be he doesn’t really get. But it does raise another question.

“How… old are you?” He looks to be around your age, but when you’re a potentially immortal witch looks can be deceiving. And the way he talks… you wonder if you’re crushing on someone your grandparent's age.

“Uh, oh! I’m… I am still this age.” he says gesturing to himself. Which doesn’t actually answer the question but you guess he means he hasn’t stopped or slowed his aging down yet. “I just… my grandparents are better with technology than I am! They’re always up-to-date on the latest gadgets and doodads. So I don’t really have experience with people who struggle with technology? Especially since it’s mostly just been me, my sister and my grandparents? There wasn’t anyone else around where I grew up.”

“Oh. Well, I can kinda relate to that.”

“Can you?” He queries, he doesn’t sound disbelieving, just curious which is nice.

“Yeah, I didn’t grow up around here.”

“Oh, right? This is a… store from the old families right?” You know what he’s asking. This store was created way back when the families were just getting set up and it’s been run by the same family since. People from the family don’t ever really leave. So if your family was situated here, how did you grow up elsewhere? You… probably shouldn’t tell him. You shouldn’t say anything just because you like him and want him to like you but… it’s not like it’s a huge secret right? Yea, you just keep telling yourself that.

“Yeah. I guess I should say, it’s not so much where I grew up… but when.”

“When?” He repeats blinking at you. You wonder if that was too subtle or something, does it need more explanation? Time travel isn’t exactly possible for most people, so they don’t really think about it. You really shouldn’t say more than that though. “That’s pretty nifty.”

“Uh, yeah. Nifty.” Not really what you’d have called it. You’re eternally grateful for them bringing you here but sometimes you wonder if it was worth it.

“Bet that had a big cost.” He says softly, and you shoot him an almost suspicious glance. He seems to flip from being painfully oblivious to reading your mind. You don’t respond to his sort-of question.

“Well, this is going to have a big cost.” You gesture to his purchases, half sprawled half neatly packaged on the counter. “We’re going to have to order in some stuff especially for you too.”

“Is that going to be more expensive?”

“Well.” You know how it is, you almost say, but really, it would seem he doesn’t. “Things are cheaper when you buy in bulk. And since we’re buying this stuff just for you we don’t get that discount. But then, this is some rare stuff and we don’t actually stock much so it’s not like it’s going to be more expensive than our normal price.”

“Oh. Well, price is no matter. We’re, uh, basically old family ourselves.”

“Oh?” You raise an eyebrow and finish ringing up his purchases before going back to packing. You’re not sure how one can be  _ basically  _ old family. Either you are, or you aren't as far as you know. He’s quiet as he pays and you don’t think he’s going at answer your silent question till he puts his card away.

“We were part of an old family. But… there was… drama. A hostile takeover? And we ended up leaving.”

“Ah.” You say like you understand. And you do. Kind of. This sounds like Big Drama. The old families are all high profile within the magical community. They’re basically celebrities, with their own brand of magical paparazzi. Any drama is immediately posted in the magical gossip mags. Your family is rather lowkey, despite having two actual celebrities and that's really the only reason you and Roxy were able to be incorporated into the family with little fuss.The fact that none of his story rings a bell? That you can’t immediately peg what family he’s supposed to be from? Is… kind of scary. The amount of hush-hush that must of gone on to keep that sort of thing a secret means Big Power. Big Power almost always means Big Trouble.

“So, what do you go by now then?”

“English.”

“What?” You look up from packing to give him another raised eyebrow at the non sequitur. It wasn’t like you’d asked him what languages he spoke or anything. He meets your gaze and flashes a smile the makes your knees go weak.

“We go by English. Well, Grandma and I do. Grandpa and the sister go by Harley. Don’t ask.” He tacks on the end when he sees you open your mouth.

“Well, Mr. English. Do I get to know your first name as well?” You ask instead.

“Do I get to know yours?” Your mouth twitches, the edges curling a little before you settle them. He straightens, seemingly rather delighted by the sight.

“Dirk Strider.”

“Nice to meet you, Dirk!” He flashes another smile and holds out his hand. You take it because really, who are you to leave him hanging? “I’m Jake. Jake English.”

After introducing yourselves you make small talk which you finish packing. You mostly learn that he has no taste in movies, as in, he likes all movies. His favourite apparently is Avatar. You learn that he  _ really  _ likes blue ladies. Which is disappointing. Because you are neither blue nor a lady. The bluest clothing you own is probably a couple pairs of jeans, and not having a problem with wearing dresses is quite different from actually being female.

You don't let it show of course, and he leaves with a wave a minute later. You mostly spend the rest of your shift daydreaming about him. From the size of his purchase, it looked like he was stacking up. Which meant he probably wasn't going to come in again for a while, except to collect his specially ordered items.

Which… you can list from the store programs history... but can't tell him about when it arrives because you don't have any contact details for him.

“Wow, a pretty face just empties your head doesn't it?” Roxy laughs when you tell her later.

“He's going to think I'm an idiot.” You groan, putting your arm over your eyes. The two of you are in your bedroom, lounging on your bed, playing a video game. Or Roxy is playing, you're just getting your ass kicked. Roxy had come up after dinner to bother you as if somehow sensing you'd met someone you were interested in.

“Well, he didn't think to leave any contact details either, so if you’re an idiot, so is he.”

“But it's part of the job, I'm supposed to remember so he doesn't need to.” You can feel her shrug through the bed.

“Well, he's gotta realize that you have no way to contact him right? I'm sure he'll come in on his own then.”

“But what if I'm not there? If someone else is manning the counter when he comes in I'll never see him again.” In response to your pain, Roxy laughs at you again.

“Just get his details from the system.”

“What if it's one of  _ them  _ at the counter when he comes? What if they put his number straight into their phone? Or, fuck, what if they just write it down? Put it someplace no one else will ever find it?”

“Relax Dirk, if worse comes to worst, we can just send out some feelers to find his location.”

“Family connection feelers? Or magical feelers? I am not asking anyone else in the family for help tracking down a  _ boy _ .”

“Well, I was thinking more hacking feelers. We've got a name. We've got an approximate location if he's coming to our shop. And potentially some kind of recent move?”

“...that seems a bit invasive.”

“And using those other kinds of feelers aren't?”

“...you’re right. Though, all I'd get would be a location from them. If we're looking for him through the internet chances are we'd find other stuff. Potentially stuff he wouldn't want me to know unless he told me himself.”

“...Ok. I get where you're coming from.” She concedes. “But remember this is only if worse comes to worst. Chances are you'll be there when he comes, you can get his number, a date, and smooch the boy,”

“Roxy.” You groan grabbing a pillow to smother yourself with. As soon as you put it on your face she wrestles it away from you.

“Trust me! It'll be fine! Now stop mopping and play this game with me.” Sighing you do as you’re told, sitting up and grabbing your controller, determined to at least make her put in an effort to beat your ass. It works as she probably intended, for the first time since you met him, you stop thinking about Jake.

Of course, your brain brings him back when you try to go to sleep later. And keeps bringing him over the week because you just can’t let anything go. It’s more your failure than Jake himself that you think about. The failure to not only get the pretty boys number but the failure to do your ‘so easy I could do it in my sleep’ job. You just keep beating yourself up over it, imagining how the conversation could have gone differently. How you could have got him to fill out a customer form in the system, what you could have said to get his number for yourself, how you could have flirted more.

You manage to refrain from complaining about it to Roxy again, she’ll just bring up all the things you could do now to try and get in touch with him. Things you’re not ready to try yet.

It’s a moot point in the end, as exactly one week later Jake turns up at the shop again. You’re at the counter again because this is your shift and you can’t help but hope that that's part of the reason he comes at the same time.

You’ve spent most of the week almost painfully aware of everyone around you on the odd hope that you’ll just bump into him again. It’s not the most comfortable state, but it does mean you look up when the door opens and you’re ready when he approaches the counter to speak.

“Hello, Dirk! I was hoping you’d be here if I came at the same time.” And no. You barely know this guy, your heart is not supposed to be doing little flips at the knowledge that he was hoping to come during your shift. It probably had more to do with him preferring to talk to you because you processed his order.

“Hey, Jake.” You say meeting his eyes, not that he can tell through your shades. You’ve reversed lots of conversations with him about getting his number, admittedly most retroactively added into your last conversation but you’re suddenly filled with nerves and you wonder if you can get out a sentence without tripping over it.

“It wasn’t till I arrived home after our last talk that I realized I had not given you anyway to contact me.”

“Yeah.” You say glancing down at your laptop on the counter and loading the store’s program. “Forgot to get you to fill out the customer form. All that complaining about how certain members of my family don’t use it and I forget myself. Should get you to do that now while you're here.”

“Ah, right.” You flick a glance up at his face, he seems… disappointed? You may be reading him entirely wrong, or misunderstanding what he's disappointed by, but… you’re a Strider. You’re too cool to let nerves stop you. Right?

“If you’ll just fill this in.” You open the customer form and spin the laptop round to face him. “So... you’ve just moved here, right?”

“Is it that obvious?” he asks, leaning forward and starting to fill out the form.

“Well, this is the only place around here to get ingredients but we’re not so amazing that people come here especially. A new customer generally means someone new in town.”

“I see. My sister was interested in the academy here, so my grandparents decided it was time we get some proper  _ socializing  _ or something.” You raise an eyebrow at the almost disgusted tone when he uses to emphasize the word socializing. He’s looking at the laptop so he misses it. You debate outright asking about it but you don’t want to pry into too personal waters just yet. You’ve got other stuff you want to ask anyway.

“So you’ve been here at least a week, got out much? Aside from shopping here.”

“Not so much, mostly just been getting everything sorted and settling in.”

“Well.” You say, ignoring your suddenly dry mouth, you lean forwards over the counter, your hands pressed flat to the top. “How about I give you a tour about town sometime this week then?”

“That would be just dandy!” He looks up from the laptop to give you a grin.

“When you’ve finished that form give me your number and we can set up a date.” His eyes widen.

“A date?” His voice is noticeably higher than before. You just blink at him for a second. While there was no way you’d turn down a date with him, you’d literally meant date, as in, a day and time. You open your mouth to tell him so when his face flushes. “Sure!”

“Cool.” You say lamely rocking back on your feet as he jerks his head back down to focus intently on the laptop. The store is silent as he finishes typing. You could almost assume he’s ignoring you except his blush doesn’t fade. He refuses to look at you even when he’s finished, turning the laptop around to face you and staring at the back of it. You flick it a glance and see he’s filled in the mobile section so presumably, you could get his number from there.

“Do you have pesterchum?” You ask, making his eyes jerk up to meet yours. For a moment he just stares at you and you raise an eyebrow at him in return.

“Ah, um.” He blinks a few times before seeming to recognize that you’d asked him a question. “Oh! Er, yes, do you want to give me your handle?” He’s already pulling out his phone and pulling up pesterchum so you return the favour. Once you’ve swapped handles the two of you just look at each other.

“Well, I should get going. More stuff to get sorted today and all that. Message me and we’ll get our date settled!” He steps back with a wave.

“Bye.” You say, waving back a bit too energetically.  _ I’ve got a date with that guy _ , you think.

It’s not till Roxy starts teasing you later that you realize you’ve been grinning since he said sure.


End file.
